Of Beasts and Both Brains

Hilary Clement

“I am very careful not to make animals cute or human-like. I like to show them how they actually are in nature,” she says. 

That’s because, as Hilary’s creative brain drives her to capture the spirit of her beasts, her analytical side ensures they’re true to form. It’s that sweet spot between the two where she does her best work.

“I try to find challenging subjects with lots of scales, wrinkles, or feathers. If I’m painting an eye,” which she says is her favorite part, “I am not only thinking of the color and how it will set the mood, but I am also thinking about the tiny striations coming from the pupil in the iris and how they work to open and close it.”

The self-taught painter is an artist, scientist and entrepreneur known in the region for her animal renderings and her distinctive paintings of barns and churches. Like her creatures, Hilary’s landscape pieces do more than depict an old cow barn. She uses a patchwork of subdued colors to capture what time and use has done to the place. And she pulls that feeling beyond the point where the building meets the ground, right into the earth that the barn or church has, in its time, become a part of. The style lends a sense that her subjects add up to more than a collection of old wood and nails.

“The layers suggest the different times in history the barn has been in use,” she says. “I see barns all the time that fall down, or are torn down because they are caving in. It’s a way of life that seems to be going extinct, and I think it’s very sad. Painting the barns is a way of reminding people of their rural roots.”

As an artist, Hilary always wanted to follow the path of the abstractionists, painting things in a way that allows the viewer’s mind to wander. She soon knew that wasn’t the kind of story she wanted to tell. “I moved to a more realistic take on my subjects, which feels wonderfully natural to me,” she says, “but I am also aware that if I paint a background and surrounding that is realistic, it tells a clear story. So, I make enough of the painting abstract so that the viewer has to fill it in for themselves.”

Corvus, 30" x 30", acrylic

That style makes its way into most of her art. Her piece “Corvus” depicts a crow from the breast up. Its iridescent feathers catch the light, and its eyes, beak and the small downy feathers on its throat show the artist’s attention to the animal’s true anatomy. But it doesn’t perch on a fence wire in some cornfield. Instead, its natural curves are entangled with sharp lines and right angles of silver against an egg-shell backdrop. Of all her pieces, it stands out as an example of Hilary’s duality.

“Corvus” isn’t her favorite piece. At least not today.

Her most cherished work is a rendering of her father and uncle standing side-by-side, one with his arm resting on the other’s shoulders, a grove of Rhododendron behind them. It was a gift to her father when her uncle had passed away. And she says her absolute favorite piece is always the one she’s working on. Why? Because it’s the next step in her growth as an artist.

“I am the best I’ve ever been each time I start a painting because I learned from the last painting. So, I know that it is the best I can do, and it is my favorite.”

Art in the DNA

Hilary was always an artist,but she wasn’t always an artist.

She’s a West Virginia native, born in Montgomery and raised in Fayetteville. She was exposed to the natural world early on. She loved to create art as a kid. She was also a natural at solving puzzles. “I loved reading Sherlock Holmes,” she said. “And it probably affected me more than I’d like to admit.”

Her parents recognized that aptitude for problem-solving, and when Hilary suggested art school, they gently nudged her into a career in science instead, with the promise that she’d be able to create art in her spare time.

“I think my parents were scared to death I would try to be an artist and not get a good job,” she said. 

Hilary followed their advice and enrolled in the biology program at WVU Tech. She took to the field quickly and fell in love with the life of the scientist, though she never let go of that desire to create.

“Probably unwisely, I spent more time in the ceramics studio than in my labs and studying,” Hilary jokes. But she doesn’t regret the time she spent with professors like Bob Simile, a beloved art instructor who passed away in 2012. “He was a great influence on me. I enrolled in his art history class and he suggested I try taking ceramics. He invested a lot of time in my learning all about glazing and using the wheel. He also brought in artists to show their work and introduced me to a world where someone could actually make a living in art.”

Even in her biology studies, Hilary would find opportunities to flex her artistic muscles. “I thrived in my anatomy and physiology classes where we had to diagram different bones and muscles,” she said.